


The Deep End

by guiltlessrain



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Adolescence, Adolescent, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Drama, High School, M/M, Multi, Romance, Sex, Teenagers, Twisted, Underage - Freeform, Underage Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltlessrain/pseuds/guiltlessrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl Powers is the school sweetheart. Jim Moriarty is the school ghost. They spend too much time together, and nobody really likes it. Especially not the new kid who seems to get along with no one but Jim, and he isn't too fond of Carl, especially Carl's attitude towards Jim. </p>
<p>An AU of Carl Powers' death set in middle/high school, with added Sebastian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP.  
> I am uploading this as I write it so things such as tags, characters, ratings, titles and such, and I may even also add or take out content as I develop the story.

The pool lights were like searchlights of an underwater party and it illuminated the pool in a ghostly manner. The building was silent and quiet, there was only the two of them here; Jim sitting cross-legged on the driest patch beside the pool and Carl, who was just pulling himself out of the water and was climbing the ladder back onto the surface.  
Jim was scratching at the firmly-cemented tiles, but he looked up when he heard the loud sucking noise as Carl heaved himself out. Carl was dripping wet but he crossed languidly over to the deck chair where his blue and white striped towel lay. Carl picked it up, towelled most of the water out of his hair before he looked over at Jim, meeting his eyes as he draped the now damp towel over his shoulders. 

Jim simply looked up at him and made no move to stand up or say a word. Carl didn’t make the first move either. The two young boys simply stared at each other in silence, the only sound being the periodically lazy lapping of water against slippery walls. 

Jim made the first move. He bit his tongue in anger.  
They were always playing this stupid game, this competition of who would give in first. They had ever since their first meeting, long before they had learnt each other’s name (Jim having been the first one to ask). It was less a test of patience to Carl, and more of a balance of power. Who ever gave in first, lost, and the loser was the weaker one, and boy, did Carl like to win. After all, he was always winning in his swimming competitions. If he wasn't sure he would leave the pool first, then he would never compete in the first place.

Carl seemed to notice the sudden tightness in Jim’s jaw and he simply smirked, almost in silent victory, before he held out his hand, offering it to Jim, as if in an act of condolence. “Come on, it’s getting late,” his voice echoed in the empty building of the indoor swimming pool. 

It was the start of January, and in the middle of a freezing winter, but Carl still insisted in swimming, and Jim insisted on tailing along everyday after school. He would simply sit and watch Carl swim for the three or four hours Carl would commit religiously. Jim never complaint, and Carl never argued or asked if he was bored of this little routine of theirs. 

Most of their relationship consisted of silence, and it was the uncomfortable kind that couldn't quite be pinpointed. Their relationship was like an aimless midnight drive on a straight highway, and in the end, things could only go two ways; the driver gets tired and crashes, or the destination is reached before the exhaustion seeps in. However, what the final destination, (which in this case, is when they both win), and what it holds and lies is a mystery to Jim. And whenever Jim thinks about it, his stomach just feels heavy, while his heart becomes light and airy, and free. It was a contradictory feeling, and Jim wasn't quite sure which way he'd prefer it to end. 

Jim followed Carl, his hand in the older boy’s grip as Carl led the way to the locker room. He dumped his swimming bag on a bench before he pulled Jim in with him into one of the shower stalls. It was dark, nearly pitch dark and Carl didn’t bother switching on the lights, and Jim simply preferred it this way. Jim hated how Carl looked when they fucked. No matter how good it felt, Carl looked ugly. At least this way, Jim could hear the beauty that is Carl’s voice without it having to be ruined by his hideous expressions. 

“Did you bring my spare clothes?” Jim asked hurriedly as Carl was shoving him back against the wall of the stall. His hands were greedy explorers, though it followed the same route and they visited the same attractions along the way. It wasn’t long before Jim’s clothes fell to the floor, one after the other, leaving Jim only in his underwear. 

“Yeah,” Carl breathed, his voice softer than his body felt as Jim brought his hands up to trace Carl’s firm chest with the palms of his hands. 

“Good, because I’m not bloody walking home soaking wet in the dead of winter,” Jim growled hatefully, remembering the exact incident he had just described happening three days ago.

Carl chuckled and teased Jim’s ear with his tongue and teeth. Jim pressed himself harder against the shower wall, as if he was trying to get away from Carl.  
“Nah, it won’t happen again.”

Carl slipped one of his hands down the front of Jim’s school trousers while his other hand fumbled along the wall to find the faucet that switched the shower on. Jim gasped and cried out loudly in pain when the water that rained down cruelly upon them was icy cold. He thrashed for a few seconds, his body instinctively sounding sirens in his body to get the hell away from the stimulus. Carl, on the other hand, with his much larger body was motionless against Jim’s, it pinned Jim against the wall, and Carl’s teeth was buried in Jim’s neck as he too endured the frigid water. The water quickly turned warm after a while and Jim gritted his teeth, his eyes shut tight. He refused to look at Carl’s face, despite being in the dark he would still be able to make out some of Carl’s features, especially his eyes. And Carl would no doubt be laughing at Jim with his eyes right now. 

“Look at me,” Carl was the first to speak after a while. He voice was silk smooth as always. Carl’s hand down Jim’s pants was stroking ever so lightly, his grip around Jim’s cock was snug. 

“No.”

“Jim-”

“No. I said no.”

Jim kept his eyes shut, and he turned his head to emphasise his stand.  
He heard Carl sigh before he felt Carl’s hand move to stroke Jim’s cock a bit more insistently. 

“Whatever you say.” Jim could heard the passive aggressive mockery in Carl’s voice. 

It didn’t take long before Jim was hard in Carl’s hand. Carl was good. Whatever rumors get passed around in school always seemed to be true, it was just a matter of whether people believed it or not. 

Jim kept his breathing even, refusing to show a single hint to Carl that he was enjoying Carl’s touch. Carl was silent, his breathing too was even. 

There was that halting silence again, ringing in Jim’s ears. The sound of the shower was thunderous in Jim’s ears, and so was his own escalating heartbeat from his increasing arousal. Carl turned him around, the older boy pinned Jim against the wall with a sturdy hand against the nape of Jim’s neck. The tiles were painfully cold against Jim’s cheek, and it felt insulting. This was part was always so awfully humiliating.

Carl never missed up an opportunity to ridicule Jim, and he never got many opportunities since Jim close-guarded himself so vigilantly. However, Jim never failed to go absolutely red when he was humiliated, and he never felt humiliated, and Jim didn't think this time would be any different. 

Jim gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, a low moan escaping his lips that Jim could not quite catch before it reached Carl’s ears. Carl pressed himself obscenely tight against Jim, his face pressed against Jim’s heated cheek and Jim could feel as Carl smirked. Jim wished he could cut Carl’s smugness right out of his face. He felt his blood boil, partly due to his hatred towards Carl, and partly due to his involuntary attraction towards Carl. It just so happened Carl was there at the wrong time and wrong place, just as Jim was growing and struggling to get a grasp of superiority over the adolescent phase he was being shoved through. Jim was constantly reminding himself that there was nothing special about Carl, it could have happened with anyone that wasn’t Carl if they were standing at the exact same spot at the exact same time. 

“If only I could record you now,” Carl purred in Jim’s ear, his voice was deep, deeper than it usually was, laced with thick arousal. “You, in all your humiliation and embarrassment, stripped of your pride, snark and confidence. Tell me, Jim, how many people truly get to see you like this?”

Jim keened and tensed against Carl as he thrusted back into Jim. Carl entered slickly and smoothly, his body hardly hurt, but Jim’s pride was thoroughly penetrated into and violated. 

“And you still insist that I’m… not… special.”

Carl’s phone sat atop the wooden bench right outside of the currently only occupied stall in the changing room. It was balanced between the planks of wood that made up the seat. The screen lit up for a brief second as a text was received, red capitalised words that read ‘RECORDING’ also flashed up. A dotted line ran horizontally along the screen, chasing a vertical blue line in dips and highs that matched the intensity of Jim’s inglorious and vulgar cries.


End file.
